


Jason Todd Is Batman

by names_are_a_mystery_to_me



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Under the Red Hood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 02:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23970595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/names_are_a_mystery_to_me/pseuds/names_are_a_mystery_to_me
Summary: Bruce is off-planet, Dick broke his collarbone, and someone else has to put on the cowl and step up as Batman. Jason doesn't want to do it, but Tim can be awfully persuasive when he wants to be.
Relationships: Batfamily Members & Jason Todd
Comments: 5
Kudos: 206





	Jason Todd Is Batman

“Absolutely not.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

“Isn’t this Dick’s job?”

“He has a broken collarbone. I’d do it, but there’s no way I’d pass. Same for the demon,” Tim said, and there was a slurping sound over the phone, as of a steaming cup of coffee. “Just the one night. It’s been too long since Batman’s shown his face, someone has to go out in the costume soon.”

Jason ground his teeth, resisting the urge to throw his phone. He glared at the microwave, counting down to his leftover ravioli. “No. I don’t care. I’m not going to put on the Batsuit,” he said. “And somehow I doubt Bruce would like the idea.”

“He’s off planet for the next month,” Tim said. He sighed deeply. “Alright, I’m resorting to bribery. Name your price, asshole.”

“Joker’s head in a box,” Jason replied promptly.

“Jason.”

“Tim.”

There was another sigh, cut off by the microwave beeping. Jason pulled the plastic container out of the microwave and grabbed a fork, keeping his phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder.

Jason ate his ravioli, listening to the sound of typing. The longer Tim stayed quiet, though, the more nervous he got. He really didn’t want to be Batman for any length of time, but he could definitely think of ways Tim could get leverage on him. He only hoped that Tim didn’t-

“Well isn’t that interesting.” Ice dropped into Jason’s stomach, and he choked on a ravioli. “How many bank accounts do you have, exactly? Nine, under six different aliases?” Between coughs, Jason did a mental tally, and the icy feeling spread. “Oh no~” Tim sing-songed.

“Tim what are you doing?” Jason gasped, eyes streaming. He clenched his fork tightly, knuckles going white. “Tim I swear to-”

“Oh no, your accounts have been frozen~ What a shame~” There was another slurp of coffee. “Give it a thought, okay Jaybird?” Then Tim hung up.

Jason swore, stabbing his remaining ravioli with vehemence. He racked his brains trying to think of an account or identity Tim hadn’t found. Unable to remember one, he swore again. Cursing Tim for being Tim, Bruce for being off-planet, Dick for breaking his collarbone, and Damian on principle, he finished his ravioli and got ready to go out on patrol.

*****

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.” Jason scowled at Tim, perched on one of the cave’s workbenches in his Red Robin uniform.

Tim raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I was just going to say you look the part,” he said. “Hell, you look more like him than Dick does.” Jason had to admit he was right, out of all the siblings he was closest to Bruce’s height and build.

“I’m still a little weirded out by how well this fits,” he muttered. It wasn’t perfect, he’d had to pad the suit a bit around the shoulders and chest, but he appeared to match Bruce in nearly every other dimension. “It’s not comfortable, though.”

“Do not let it become comfortable, Todd,” said a stern voice, and they both turned as Damian strode towards them in his full Robin uniform. He looked Jason over and scoffed. “You cannot understand how little you measure up.”

“Look, you little shit, I don’t want to be wearing this overrated fursuit either. The instant the caffeine zombie releases my bank accounts, I’m out.”

“It is not overrated!” Damian shouted, skipping the second part of the insult, probably because he didn’t know what a fursuit was. Sometime after patrol, he would google it and blow Jason’s phone up with angry voicemails. “Now listen here, Todd-”

Damian broke off as his voice cracked. He coughed and tried to return to his rant, but Tim and Jason were both laughing too hard. “Todd! Drake! Cease your mockery at once!”

Eventually, Tim and Jason finished laughing at Damian’s changing voice, and they all piled into the Batmobile. Jason almost forgot how much he didn’t want to be Batman, the anger flooded out by _holy shit I’m driving the goddamn Batmobile_. “I’ve always wanted to get behind the wheel of this baby,” he whispered. “I might be able to enjoy tonight after all.”

*****

Gordon sighed, taking his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. Next to him, the bat-signal shone up onto Gotham’s perpetual cloud cover. He knew Nightwing was wearing the cowl for the time being, but the kid had taken a nasty beating the other night. Maybe it was too much to hope he’d be up and at ‘em this soon.

He put his glasses back on and turned off the bat-signal. He had his hand on the door handle to go back inside when there was the tell-tale sound of a grappling line anchoring to the edge of the roof, then a second and a third.

“Sorry, Commissioner,” Red Robin said as he landed on the roof. “We were held up.”

Batman and Robin quickly followed their brother, landing on either side of him in silence. “We would have been here sooner if certain birds didn’t backseat drive,” Batman growled, somehow petulant even through the voice modifier. Robin rolled his eyes, it was obvious in spite of the mask.

Gordon frowned. He got to see Batman and his various sidekicks and replacements a lot closer than most, and that meant he was uniquely placed to notice differences. It wasn’t the original Batman, although he might have been fooled if he hadn’t argued with Robin like a child. Definitely not Nightwing, though. The same height and build as the original, almost. That narrowed the possible pool down significantly, but he didn’t quite believe it.

“Red Hood?” Gordon asked, incredulously.

“I am vengeance,” Red Hood growled, pulling the cape to cover the bottom half of his face. “I am the night. I. Am. Batman!” Red Robin facepalmed, and Robin was uncharacteristically silent, simply punching Red Hood/Batman in the ribs.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Red Robin said, stepping forward and holding out his hand for the case folder that Gordon had nearly forgotten about. He flipped through it, then nodded and handed it back. “Organized crime. Classic. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Ooh, organized crime, that’s my favourite,” Bathood said. “Let’s go put the fear of Batman into some criminals.” Then he jumped off the roof.

“That is not what Batman is about!” Robin hollered after him, and his voice cracked noticeably. He followed Bathood off the roof, shouting the whole way.

Red Robin shook his head, gave Gordon a tired wave, and drew his grapple. “I can’t believe this was my idea,” he said to himself before following his brothers.

*****

Bruce teleported into the Cave from the Watchtower, grateful his mission in space had been finished earlier than expected. Not that he didn’t trust his children, but he preferred to be home to deal with problems himself.

He frowned when the chair at the Batcomputer turned to reveal not Alfred but Dick, wearing an arm sling and headset.

“Hey, guys! He’s home!” Dick yelled into the mic, leaping to his feet. Bruce removed his cowl and hugged his eldest, mindful of the sling. “We were just wrapping patrol up for the night anyway, everyone head in.”

Dick removed the headset and set it in front of the Batcomputer, grinning. Bruce’s frown deepened when he realised that the Batmobile was missing from its parking spot. Dick followed his gaze and his smile turned into a grimace. “So I broke my collarbone, and Alfred benched me.”

“How long ago?”

“Three weeks.” Bruce’s stomach twisted. Gotham had been Bat-less for three weeks? That wasn’t good.

“Red Robin took the Batmobile out?”

“Ehhhhh, no, not exactly.”

“You let Robin drive?”

“Of course not.” Dick looked offended at the suggestion. Bruce was about to ask who else could have taken the car, if Jason had decided to steal the Batmobile while he was gone. He thought they were making such progress, too.

There was a roar, and the Batmobile sped into the cave. Bruce winced as the car squealed to a stop. That was definitely Jason driving, but if he hadn’t stolen the car, then…?

The doors opened, and Robin and Red Robin got out. The car turned off, then the driver side door opened, and out stepped-

Jason. Jason, wearing a batsuit. Bruce looked between the rest of his sons, Dick in particular, looking for a hint that this was some kind of joke. Dick grinned at his befuddlement, nudging him with an elbow. “Looks a lot like you, doesn’t he?”

“Father,” Damian nodded to him, with semi-convincing stoicness. Bruce knew once they were alone, he’d be getting welcome-back hugs, and he’d been looking forward to that since he left Earth. “Please tell Todd he can remove the suit now.”

“I dunno, I was just getting used to it,” Jason joked, taking his cowl off and putting his hands on his hips. “It’s definitely more fun lurking in the shadows in this one, maybe I’ll keep it.” Damian squawked indignantly. “I’m just kidding. I can’t wait to get out of this thing.”

Jason disappeared into the changing rooms, and Bruce’s other sons spoke over each other to give their summaries of his time off-world. Tim and Damian were critical of Jason’s actions as Batman, but none of their concerns were more serious than the new dent in the rear right door of the Batmobile, which was a good sign.

He sent them upstairs for post-patrol snacks, Damian hanging back for a brief hug that only foretold the hugpocalypse that would descend upon him once there was no danger of interruption.

Bruce was at the Batcomputer skimming through the last month’s reports. It tickled him to see that there was virtually no speculation that Jason’s Batman wasn’t him. He had to admit that Jason did make a more convincing body double than Dick, although the difference would no doubt become obvious as soon as he started talking.

Jason came out of the changing room in his Red Hood gear, minus the helmet, and he hesitated upon seeing that his brothers had left him alone with their father. He coughed. “They better have left me food,” he muttered, walking towards the stairs. “They’re like little piranhas.”

“Wait.” 

Jason stopped walking, his shoulders hunching up, clearing anticipating criticism. He turned, trying to look relaxed. “Look, I didn’t want to do it, but Tim froze all my bank accounts and wouldn’t give ‘em back until I-”

“You did a good job.”

Jason froze, uncomprehending. “What did you say?” he asked, confusion evident in his voice. There was a stab of guilt in Bruce’s heart, that his second son expected nothing but criticism from him.

“You did a good job,” he repeated. “I haven’t had a chance to go through the reports, of course, but your brothers didn’t complain about anything but your driving. That’s as close as they get to a ringing endorsement.”

Jason shrugged, trying not to look shocked. “Whatever.”

“In fact, I think Dick was right. You do look a lot more like me than he does. Maybe, in the future, when I go off-planet-”

“Nope!” Jason said, throwing his hands up. “Did you get conked on the head in space? This is too weird.” He took another couple steps towards the stairs, pausing to turn around and point a finger at Bruce. “Also, in case you didn’t hear, Timmy had to hold my finances hostage to get me into the costume. It’s not happening again!”

Bruce smiled to himself as Jason disappeared up to the manor for post-patrol snacks, and the longer he sat at the computer, looking through reports and news articles from the last month, the more proud he felt. As much as he claimed to not want it, Jason made a pretty good Batman.

Maybe the next time he went off-planet or got put out of action, he’d give Jason the opportunity to take his place. Dick would definitely appreciate not wearing the cowl, and even if Jason declined the offer, just the fact that he’d offered would mean a lot.


End file.
